Her Real Feelings
by Ledophole
Summary: Just some cursing. This is a different take to Bulma's life and if was my first song fic. If you have nto read it before, you can read it now. Kudos to those who review. ~_*


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Her Real Feelings  
Category: Anime » Dragon Ball Z Censor: PG13 Reviews: 7   
Download/Print: 18KB  
Author: Ledophole   
  
  
  
* Her Real Feelings  
  
Disclaimers: How could I possibly own Dragonball Z? I do not own Britney Spears,   
either. So do not sue me. You would never get your money anyway.   
Warnings: Lots of angst. Not a sob story, but it makes you think.  
  
This is my second fanfic, and it's a song fic. So be gentle in your reviews, but   
I really do not care about flames. As for my story Strange Comfort I am still   
finishing the second part so it will be out before the end of October. The only   
reason this songfic came first was that I had this sudden idea and could not let   
it go, now on with the story.  
  
This is a story about a girl named Bulma...   
Early morning, she wakes up  
Knock, knock, knock on the door  
Its time for makeup, perfect smile  
Its you their all waiting for  
They go . . .  
"Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl?"  
And they say. . .   
  
  
I woke up to hear Vegita knocking on my door. It was hardly five in the morning   
and yet that idiot was already pounding on the door wanting me to fix something.   
God I was so tired of his sickly, princely, attitude I wanted to shove him off   
the roof. Not like it would do me any good anyway. He was too strong to be   
pushed and he could fly also.   
As I got up, I heard a lot of muffled talking at my door. Thinking that Vegita   
had gone crazy and was talking to himself I hurriedly put on a robe so that I   
could be decent and called out:  
  
"Hold on a minute would you Vegita. I have to put some slippers on." When I   
opened the door, instead of Vegita standing there with his usual scowl, I saw   
him smirking at my bewildered expression, at seeing all the reporters and   
journalist behind him.  
  
"Who the heck are these people Vegita?" I asked with a warning tone in my voice.   
  
"Well when I was training this morning all of a sudden they all pulled up, by   
the truckload. Each one of them fussing about whom had gotten here first and   
whom was going to be the first to interview you. Well just to be polite I   
offered them to all come in and take a seat in your living room. And as you can   
see over my shoulder they are making themselves quite comfortable." All though   
Vegita was telling the truth I truly hated the evil smirk he had on his face. If   
he had wanted to, Vegita could have scared away all of those people. But no, he   
wanted to see how flustered and angry he could get me; and that is what made me   
upset.   
  
How dare Vegita open my doors to people who just wanted to exploit my life. So   
just to verify why they were here I asked Vegita:  
"Why are they here?"  
"Well ," he began slow and drawn out as if purposely trying to piss me off," it   
seems that experiment you did on the on the isolation chamber was a big success.   
It seems to be saving lives all over the world. And because of this every famous   
reporter or journalist showed up early this morning just to talk and interview   
you about what you have done. Your wish of becoming world famous has fully   
succeeded. And if you thought you were famous before, you are the biggest thing   
since peanut butter now. "   
  
As I looked over Vegita I began to realize what a big person I had turned into.   
I had had interviews before, but this was the first time I had had so many   
people flocking over   
  
me like this. I was very scared about how I was going to deal with all those   
people in my living room. That stupid ugly bastard standing next to my door   
certainly was not going to help. And I could not call Yamacho based on the fact   
that last night I had told him our relationship was over. I had cried myself to   
sleep last night, and I was in no mode to be dealing with a hundred noisy   
reporters. As I stared at the reporters I suddenly turned to Vegita.   
  
When Vegita saw the look I was giving him, his smirk left his face. My look was   
one of pure mischief. He knew that what I was about to ask him to do was   
something impossible. Well he said he would not do it. He was the Watashi   
Sayajin no Oji. He did not have to do what me as a weakling wanted. So when I   
asked him to entertain the reporters and keep them busy while I got dressed, he   
said no immediately. And when I said please in a really whiny voice and made the   
please long and drawn out he still said no. But when I said I would turn off the   
gravity machine if he did not do what I asked he still said no, but very   
reluctantly. So I said I would tell Son Goku, and he still said no. But when I   
threatened not to feed him, he reluctantly left the spot he was standing in and   
walked away slowly mumbling about how ugly and bitchy blue-haired women were.  
  
I just calmly shut the door and got dressed. When I went into the living room I   
immediately had tons of microphones and people in my face. They were asking me   
all sorts of questions. One reporter who looked about my age and whom I knew to   
be flirtatious with famous, pretty women, asked me:  
"How does it feel to be world famous, beautiful, and rich Bulma Briefs?" I did   
not have the time to answer before another microphone was shoved in my face and   
I was asked:  
"Do you think that you were be doing more with your life in the fields of making   
movies, songs, or other fields of entertainment."  
I answered with:" I do not think of this success as some type of way to be some   
sort of air head celebrity. I will just continue on way's of making the   
isolation chamber better." Then the young reporter was back in my face asking   
me:  
"Do you think you will be winning any awards? Like the Nobel Peace Prize, or the   
Inventor of the Year award?"  
"I do not know if I will be winning any awards. The reason I even started   
working on this experiment was to help people. So if I win any awards, then I'll   
be delighted. But if I don't than I really do not care." After I finished with   
the reporters about 6 hours later I plopped down on the couch exhausted from all   
the talking and sore throated from answering so many questions.   
  
She's so lucky, she's a star  
But she cry, cry, cries with a lonely heart, thinking  
If there's nothing missing in my life  
Then why do these tears come at night  
  
After taking a quick nap, I woke up to go finish some paperwork on the isolation   
chamber. When I got finished I decided to go call Chi-Chi and tell her what   
happened this morning. As I sat on my bed to pick up the phone I saw the caller   
ID button blinking. And when I checked my ID I saw that I had 67 new callers.   
When I checked the answering machine, all the 67 callers had left messages. Not   
knowing if they were important or not I had to listen to all 67 messages.   
I had calls from every daytime show you could think of. Montel, Oprah, Jenny   
Jones, etc.. On top of that I had tons of reporters and journalist begging for   
me to set an appointment. I could not understand how I could have more people to   
interview when I had just finished interviewing over a hundred other people. On   
top of that they all wanted interviews are their point and times. These people   
had no consideration, I realized and I sat down on my bed to call Chi-chi.  
  
  
Lost in an image, in dream  
But there's no one there to wake her up  
And the world is spinning, and she keeps on winning   
But tell me what happens when it stops?   
They go. . .  
"Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl?"  
And they say. . .   
  
I picked up the phone and dialed Chi-chi's number. The phone rang 2 times before   
it was picked up by SonGoku.  
"Hello?" asked SonGoku.  
"Hi Goku, is Chi-chi home? I really need to talk to her."  
"Hi Bulma. Yeah Chi-chi's home. I'll go get her for you." Goku put he phone on   
hold and went to get Chi-chi. After a couple of seconds Chi-chi picked up the   
phone.  
"Hi Bulma. How are you?"  
"Ha, Cheech. I'm fine. And you?"  
"I'm fine. So are you okay? You sound sorta tired and upset. Is everything   
okay?"  
"That's what I called to talk to you about. You would not believe what happened   
to me this morning. At around five in the morning about a hundred reporters and   
journalist showed up to interview me. I mean the crows had not even crowed yet   
and they were already at my house. I had to answer questions for six hours. I   
mean and some of them were so stupid. People asked me about my sex life, winning   
awards, was I getting rich off my experiments, and my favorite one, was I   
available."  
"It seems you had a lot handle today. How was Vegita acting about this?"  
"Well this morning he was the one that let the reporters in. And then I forced   
him to keep them busy while I got dressed. But oddly enough, I have not seen him   
since this morning. I am sort of happy about that because I did not have to deal   
with his bullshit all day , but I sorta feel lonely now. I have so many day time   
TV shows trying to get me to come on their show it in not funny. And guess   
what??? (1)The Bureau of Awards wants to give me awards. So far I have been   
nominated for 4 awards."  
"Wow Bulma!!! That's great."  
"Yeah I guess I should feel happy, but I don't. I think that I realize how much   
stress I am going have to deal with over the next few months. I feel so trapped.   
I made the isolation chamber to help people and now I am some big celebrity.   
Chi-chi I have a question to ask you."  
"What is it Bulma? I do not mind answering anything that will help you along."  
"Well I was thinking of not going to the awards assembly. I mean everyone is   
going to be there and I just do not feel like dealing with that kind of pressure   
right now. It is in 2 weeks. Do you think I should go? I mean I know it is   
important, but at the cost of my sanity?"  
"Well if you really do not want to go then don't. but I would feel real honored   
to have awards being presented to me. But if I was you Bulma I would go. Just   
for the fun and the vacation you might get if you stay over at the hotel a   
little bit longer after the assembly."  
I laughed for the first time that day. And I felt good for the first time in a   
long time. "Alright Chi-chi, I will follow your advice. And thanks for helping   
me make my decision."   
"Your welcome."  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
  
  
  
2 WEEKS LATER   
(I am sitting on a plane on my way to Hollywood, California)  
  
Somehow I had found the time to go to the mall with Chi-chi and buy some   
clothes. And gratefully no one had spotted me. Now I was on the plane and   
resting. As I had got on the plane I had been met by the paparazzi. Somehow they   
had got wind of the plane I was going to take. And they had bombarded me with   
questions. Now I was tired and all I wanted to was rest.  
I also wanted to think about a particular question I had been asked. Someone had   
asked me whether or not I was considering love and I almost laughed in their   
face. How could I have time for love when I was juggling between my career and   
those bakas. That had been a very stupid question. Besides no guy wanted to date   
a woman whom was smart and more intelligent than he was. I had been in so many   
relationships where the guy thought that I was just another dumb, cute, chick   
that I was ready to hit celibacy for the rest of my life. How come guys were so   
intimidated by me?  
I did not want to be an old maid the rest of my life but that's how it looked   
like I was going to be. Inside of me I am thinking of how lonely I am. While I   
am fussing with Vegita, talking to my friends, of working I am always struggling   
to keep the loneliness from getting to me.   
  
I had been sleep for 4 hours when I was awoke by a grumbling flight attendant.   
The plane had stopped and it was time to get off. As soon a I set my foot on   
solid ground there were cameras and flashes and microphones everywhere. These   
people had no respect for privacy. Every where she went there was someone there   
with a camera trying to get her to answer some questions. It was heart-rending   
the way people threw around other people's lives. Especially famous people   
lives.   
After answering many questions, I am finally able to get through the big crowd.   
After finding the Sharlton Hotel, I went to go take a nice, hot, bubble bath.   
The maid had already brought up my dinner and I was presently stuffing my face.   
My bags had already been brought in and so I jumped on the bed. I was so tired.   
I was tired of my life, tired of my horrible romance's and tired of people   
taking advantage of my life for their prosperity. It was not fair. I had no more   
privacy and no one understood. Tomorrow I had to go meet with the Committee of   
Awards and I was anxious to get it over with.   
As I lay down the anxieties of the day caught up with me and I feel asleep   
immediately.  
  
The next day I left the hotel and went to meet the committee. They were very   
brusque and impatient whenever I tried to say something. They seemed not to want   
to listen to anything but what they wanted. They wanted me to include them in my   
speeches if I won anything. They also wanted me to give them recognition   
whenever I was interviewed. It was not fair. They way they talked to me made me   
want to cry. I felt so tired and used that when the meeting was over I   
immediately went to the bathroom and cried. I cried for my messed up life and   
the way things were headed in it. I was probably never going to find someone to   
love and wind up marrying just for the fun of it.  
It was weird how people thought that rich people had it easy. Here I was Bulma   
Briefs the most successful, wealthiest, self-made woman in the world and I was   
in the bathroom crying because my life was sorry. If this got out people would   
think I was crazy. I would not blame them. I was supposed to be happy right?   
  
She's so lucky, she's a star  
But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking  
If there's nothing missing in my life  
Then why do these tears come at night  
  
  
  
When I got back to the hotel, I changed and decided to go out to dinner. I put   
on a nice little, blue dress, that assented my eyes and made me look younger   
than I really did. Then I went to the cute little Italian restaurant I had   
spotted earlier coming home from the committee. It seemed very nice and when I   
walked in the restaurant I was very glad   
  
that I had come here. It had a very nice, pleasant, homely odor that reminded me   
of those days I used to stay in the kitchen and help my mother cook. The days   
before my family became worldwide famous.   
Across from me there was a young, Italian, guy. He was very handsome and the   
candlelight's brought out his beautifully, curved face. If I had not been   
trained as I was in the art of love, I would have been drooling in my seat. As I   
was ordering, I noticed him looking over at me. As I was waiting for my food, he   
got up suddenly and came over.   
"May I please sit next to you?" he asked. Very quickly I agreed. " I am shocked   
at seeing one so beautiful come into this place." And from then on I was his.   
But soon I regretted my decision to open my mouth. Because somehow the topic   
steered to physics. Now this was a subject I knew a lot about, and without   
thinking I began to talk about everything I knew on the subject. Through the   
conversation I learned he had a Masters Degree in Physics. I should have kept my   
mouth shut but he got me upset when he kept trying to outtalk me. I did not   
appreciate that, so when we started talking I outdid him in every subject in   
physics. And believe me if he had thought he was smart, he did not think so much   
of himself now.   
After talking he gave some weak excuse about having to go to work early in the   
morning and left. The brilliant Bulma Briefs had struck again. I had just lost   
the chance to hook up with a cute guy and all because I was to smart. Why could   
I not fall in love, I mean if he had of wanted me to be dumb than I would not   
have liked that, but I would at least like to have a romance that would last me   
more that 3 days. But it seemed like that was never going to happen.  
  
"Best Inventor and the winner is. . . Bulma Briefs!  
"I'm Roger Johnson for Pop News standing outside the arena waiting for lucky"  
"Oh my god. . . here she comes!"  
  
After wining I quickly left the arena and had the limo driver drive her to the   
hotel. The night had been stressing. I did not thank the committee and in   
between awards I had been given hell about it. Now I was just tired. I had had   
to walk up those steps 3 times with high-heeled shoes on and so I just wanted to   
go home. I was so down trotted I had to remind myself that I was in public just   
so I would not cry. I had seen so many young and old couples. The had looked   
beautiful together. I envied them so much. they are the really rich people in   
this world.  
Women would kill for my looks thinking that they might get all the attention   
from men they wanted. Yah, they might get the attention but the relationship   
would not be there. All the times I saw myself finally with someone I loved and   
thought I was going to marry were always shattered by the fact that they were   
intimidated by me. Did I have some sort of weird curse?  
  
After I got in my hotel room, I took a nice bath and laid down to sleep. I cried   
myself into what doctors would call a traumatic state. I almost tried to kill   
myself. The only reason I did not was because I was so used to certain levels of   
stress that I sorta hung on to the minimum level of sanity. So instead of   
killing myself I cried myself into a deep type of slumber that few mortals ever   
reach. The type of slumber that takes you beyond normal consciousness and   
dreams. A type of sleep where if someone were to stick a knife in your back and   
twist it you still would not wake up. And I cried even after I was asleep.  
  
  
  
Isn't she lucky, this Hollywood girl?  
She is so lucky, but why does she cry?  
If there is nothing missing in her life   
Why do these tears come at night?  
  
(1) I did not know what the people whom give out awards are called so I had to   
think of something.  
  
Please review my story. I had over 200 people read my story and only 13 people   
wrote responses. Kudos to all the people whom reviewed my story. Your words were   
not taken lightly. So please review it means a lot. Okies. Ja'ne  
  
  
  
Review Story ( be a responsible reader and write a review)  
Title: Her Real Feelings  
Name:Ledophole (Signed Review)  
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